


The Games We Play

by rosehathaway



Category: Vampire Academy & Related Fandoms, Vampire Academy (2014), Vampire Academy Series - Richelle Mead
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Morning Sex, Morning fluff and smut, Smut, aka rose wants a morning quickie and isn't taking no for an answer, and dimitri obviously obliges, romitri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 19:50:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16144292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosehathaway/pseuds/rosehathaway
Summary: Rose and Dimitri indulge in some morning workout activities.





	The Games We Play

**Author's Note:**

> This basically came to me in the middle of the night. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Title comes from the song What A Day by Josephine.
> 
> Huge thanks to my beta Sarah for proofing this. I love you!!

It was too early when Rose awoke to an empty bed—still warm on his side. Groaning internally, she thought that this must've been the universe's way of evening things out. Dimitri's early rising and inability to sleep in was probably the one flaw she could find about her almost perfect boyfriend.

Then again, maybe he was only perfect to her.

Her annoyance evaporated when she looked at him, all harsh lines and defined abs. They were not wrong in calling him a god she decided while admiring his lean shirtless body.

The corners of her lips tugged upwards into a sly smile as she pulled the cover aside with her bare legs. The only thing she wore was one of the shirts she managed to commandeer from him last night. It wasn’t really a problem, because she always made a point of returning them when they stopped smelling of him. What was the point of wearing your boyfriend’s oversized shirt if you couldn’t enjoy the benefit of swimming in the sea of his smell anyway, right?

Rose could see that he spotted that she was awake, but wouldn’t look at her. She knew why.

This was a little game they played.

Dimitri liked his morning (or, well, evening on a Moroi schedule) runs. Rose liked her morning cuddles and staying in bed until the last possible second. Since they couldn’t combine them, they played a wicked game of persuasion. Some days, he won, and she would join him for a run, enjoying the physical proximity while they moved in sync. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy running with him, she simply enjoyed cuddling more. Other days, she won, wearing a smile for the rest of the day after she convinced him to stay in bed with her.

Surprisingly enough, that was all it took for their relationship to work. Compromise.

And since Rose had grown a lot since she first met the handsome Russian god before her, she completely agreed that compromises were important. Just not this morning. This morning she would get what she wanted with no regrets.

Slipping out of bed, she reached him. He was still sipping on his precious coffee when she wrapped her arms around him from behind. It was a privilege reserved for her, and it was one of her favourite things in the world. Seeing Dimitri so unguarded—soft even. He rarely let anybody but her this close, maybe his sisters back in Russia, but nobody here.

“Morning,” she whispered, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades as high as she could reach, enjoying the feeling of his bare skin against her lips.

He groaned, noting that she brought her A-game this morning. Setting down his mug, he turned to face her, getting lost in the radiant smile she directed at him. It was the moment he knew Rose won. He would do anything for her.

“I haven’t gotten a proper workout in a week,” he mentioned pointedly, and she grinned even more. Cocking her eyebrow at him, he knew what her answer was going to be before she spoke. He knew her _that_ well.

“I’ll give you a workout,” she promised with a raised brow, bracing her hands on his shoulders then jumping softly to wrap her legs around his waist. Ever prepared, he caught her, supporting her weight by hooking his arms underneath her thighs. “See, that’s lifting already.”

He rolled his eyes. It was a fun game they played, but he’s had quite enough of talking.

Leaning in, he caught her lips in a scorching kiss. He swiped his tongue against the seam of her lips in an expert move, and when he got a taste of her, he let out a heavy groan. He pulled her impossibly closer than she was before, enjoying the soft moan that escaped her mouth.

She won this round, so why did it feel so much like he was winning too?

It must have been something about her warm sleep-heavy limbs wrapped around his body like a lifeline. Or the way she peppered his neck with light butterfly kisses, knowing it would drive him insane. Or the way she rolled her hips in search of friction when she felt his hardness pressing into her.

“Come back to bed,” she murmured, clearly still trying to convince him. He walked back to the bedroom, smiling at her and throwing her body on the bed nonchalantly. She grinned, her eyes dark with desire and she moved back to make space for him to join her on the bed.

“Hi,” he said, kissing her until she ran out of breath, before going in a straight line from her collarbone down her sternum. The t-shirt was in his way, so he moved his kisses down, pressing one on the inner side of her knee. Her breath hitched in her throat and her eyes closed in anticipation of what was coming.

He teased, sucking on the tender skin of her thighs, moving up at an impossibly slow speed. Rose whimpered with annoyance, one of her legs moving to rest on his shoulder to give him a nudge.

“For god’s sake,” she groaned, so on edge, she felt all he had to do was touch her and she’d explode.

“What do you say?”

“Fuck me?”

“Not quite,” he said with a smirk, but finally pressed his lips against her clit. He slid his tongue against it a couple of times—enough to have her clutching the covers and squirming on the bed—before he pulled away. “What’s that?”

She uttered curses at him, leaving a chain of swear words in the air, some of them even in Russian, before she finally gave in, delivering the word he wanted in a breathy moan she was sure was going to torture him back at least a little.

“Please.”

He resumed his strokes, picking up the pace, until he felt her thighs tighten around his neck and her body spasmed with an orgasm so intense she had to bury her head into a pillow. He helped her ride through it, enjoying the lazy satisfied smile she gave him when he pulled her shirt over her head.

The moment before he slid inside of her, their eyes met. It never ceased to make her feel vulnerable—the way their eyes spoke a language of their own, never needing words to communicate what was the most important.

“I love you,” she told him, welcoming him into her arms. Welcoming him home. Just like she always did, even when he didn’t deserve it—especially when he didn’t deserve it.

He moved inside of her. Slowly at first, almost touching her soul with every painfully dragged out thrust, and then faster, when pleasure already clouded his eyes, and his entire world reduced to _her._

Her words echoed in his head as he slammed into her with reckless abandon. It’s how it always was with them—loving yet passionate beyond reason. Just like they were full of contradictions, so was their lovemaking. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

But he knew one thing for sure. He didn’t mind going anywhere, for any amount of time, if she was there waiting for him.

And when his body crushed down on hers and their limbs went soft and their breaths started slowing down—when they slowly descended from the high they both reached, he caught a hold of her hand, kissed the fingers softly. He knew that the ring on her finger wasn’t just a fashion accessory. It was a silent reminder of the promises they made to each other. It meant one thing. She was his.

Not in a possessive way—Dimitri knew Rose was a wild thing that could never belong to anyone. She didn’t belong to him. No. It was more a matter of her soul belonging to his and the other way around.

He felt Rose nudging him off—a reminder that his body was still lying on top of hers, and he moved so that she could breathe. As she rested her dark curls on his chest, he echoed her words from before and heard her sigh with content, wrapping her arm around his torso.

And this moment—this bliss he felt—was exactly the reason he always won, even when he didn’t.

 


End file.
